


Smooches Bigger Than He Is

by MoyaKite



Category: Transformers: Robots in Disguise (2015)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 13:53:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3449546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoyaKite/pseuds/MoyaKite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"My favorite color is red, too!" Grimlock gave the bitty bot a big, crooked grin. "Do you like flowers?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Favorite Color

**Author's Note:**

> This work is cobbled together from a series of requests over on my Tumblr. (I'm moyaofthemist over there.) They were technically supposed to be ~3 sentences long each, but they ended up...not being that short. Upon request, I'm posting them to AO3.

"My favorite color is red, too!" Grimlock gave the bitty bot a big, crooked grin. "Do you like flowers?"

Fixit’s vocalizer reset three times before he could even answer. “I love floors—floods—flowers!” 

Grimlock reached over him, and he flinched, throwing his arms over his head with a little squeak. The ground shuddered beneath him as something tore nearby, and he offlined his optics, bracing himself for the End of All Things. Then Grimlock nudged him so gently he almost thought a butterfly had landed on his helm. Cycling his optics, Fixit looked up—and up—to see the gigantic Decepticon holding out an entire rose bush.

"Uh." Grimlock hesitated, a deep and serious frown creasing his faceplates. "Hold on. My hands are kinda big." With exceeding care, he extricated a single rose from the bush.

The dazzling smile he presented the rose with made Fixit’s spark skip.

When the minicon didn’t take the blossom, Grimlock tilted his helm to one side. “Do you want a different one?”

"No!" Fixit said, his wheels involuntarily launching him forward to snatch the rose before it could be taken away. "This one is protect—precious—perfume—" He smacked his vocalizer. "—perfect!"

Grimlock cycled his optics as he looked down at the little bot, then grinned and held out the whole bush. “Want another?”


	2. Model Boyfriend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Actually, my nickname is MC, but that’s a long story," Fixit laughed.
> 
> Grimlock stretched out on his belly, butting his snout against Fixit’s tummy. “Tell me!”
> 
> "Really?" Fixit paused in raising his claw to scritch the top of Grimlock’s head—or, at least, the highest point he could reach. "You want to hear the story?"

"Actually, my nickname is MC, but that’s a long story," Fixit laughed.

Grimlock stretched out on his belly, butting his snout against Fixit’s tummy. “Tell me!”

"Really?" Fixit paused in raising his claw to scritch the top of Grimlock’s head—or, at least, the highest point he could reach. "You want to hear the story?"

"Well, yeah?" Grimlock frowned. "Is it a secret or something? You don’t hafta."

Before he could stop to reconsider, Fixit threw his arms wide and hugged Grimlock’s snout, smooching him squarely on the lips. Uh. His processor stilled. The lips that hid denta sharp enough to chomp him clean—err, messily—in half.

Just as he was about to recoil and start stammering out apologies, though, a loud rumbling made him freeze. A growl? Was Grimlock growling at him? Scrap, he was in for it. No one would find his body. Better prepare to become one with the AllSpark. This was it. The End.

And then— _then_ —Grimlock kissed him back. The kiss was as big as Fixit himself; and the EM field suddenly surging up around his was full of—of _delight_? The rumbling got louder as the dinobot nosed up against Fixit, pressing sloppy kisses all over his frame.

Purring. Grimlock was  _purring_.

"Does MC stand for Mega Kisser?" Grimlock asked, booping his nose against Fixit. It startled him enough that he fell over backwards, and Grimlock immediately teeked of distress. "I’m sorry. My nose is too big."

"Well, my mouth is too big," Fixit said, grinning wider than he had in vorns. "MC. Mouth Clamp. Because everybody says I need one."

Grimlock frowned again. “But I like your stories.” He paused. “And your kisses. They’re like butterflies.”

The only butterflies Fixit had were the ones fluttering around his spark chamber. He shoved himself back upright and nuzzled Grimlock’s snout. “That’s the nicest thing anybody’s ever soft—sung—said to me.”

Grimlock smooched him again—this time gently enough that he didn’t even rock back on his wheels. “Well, not everyone can be a model boyfriend like me.”


	3. Snuggle Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Little bots get cold too quick." Grimlock’s tone was matter-of-fact, as if this was the perfect explanation for his current situation.

"Little bots get cold too quick." Grimlock’s tone was matter-of-fact, as if this was the perfect explanation for his current situation.

"You’re not a banging—banquet—blanket, Grimlock!" Fixit protested, scowling up at the wall of dinobot curled around him. "What are you doing?"

"I’m protecting you," he said, his voice smug. 

"From what?"

"The cold." 

Fixit made a sound that, from a human, might’ve been construed as a snort. “Are you even comfortable like this?”

"Head scratches would help."


	4. First Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fixit likes rocks, and Grimlock likes Fixit.

"What would you like to do, Grim-Grim-Grim-Grim—" Fixit cringed, bracing himself for the moment he’d be interrupted, but Grimlock just kept smiling. "—Grim-Grim-Grimlock?" He vented with relief as he got the name out; it was so much worse when somebody cut him off with a word only half-said.

"I was thinkin’ we could go look around the quarry," Grimlock said, offering Fixit a crooked grin that set his spark spinning. "You like rocks, right?"

"And soil samples!" Fix said brightly. Then he screwed up his face in thought. "Wait, you remembered that?"

"The only rocks at the beach were even itty-bittier than you," he said morosely, "and I dunno how to take a ‘soil sample’ or anything. Sounds all science-y."

"I can show you how to label one properly," Fixit said, turning to face the quarry. "Shall we?"

Grimlock stooped to offer Fixit a hand, but his claws could only hold onto one finger comfortably. Grimlock seemed unperturbed; he started humming cheerfully as he took tiny steps toward the quarry, matching his pace to Fixit’s wheels. 

"That can’t be cumbersome—comparable—comfortable." He craned his neck to stare up at his date, who was walking with his strut bent at nearly ninety degrees. 

"Is your arm gonna get tired?" Grimlock asked, frowning down at him as if realizing Fixit had his arm stretched as high up as he could. When he started to squat lower, Fixit squeezed his finger.

"Now you’re just embarrassing me." He huffed. "At this rate, you’ll pick me up and—"

"Like the trust falls!" Grimlock beamed. Before Fixit could so much as squawk in protest, he’d scooped the minicon up in one palm.  "I gotcha!"

Fixit’s wheels struggled for purchase on the smooth metal of Grimlock’s palm. Grimlock used a surprisingly gentle finger to help ease him into a comfortable position that minimized rolling. He felt a little silly lounging on the dinobot’s palm, but it  _was_ rather comfortable, and Grimlock didn’t have to stoop anymore, so he settled in.

"Do you like rocks?" Fixit asked.

"I don’t know." Grimlock shrugged, but only with the side that wasn’t holding Fixit. "But you like ‘em, and I like you, so why not?"

Fixit’s face heated. “Well, if you get bo-bo-bo—” he thumped his chest, “—bored, you’ll have to let me know. I want this date to be enjoyable for both of us.”

"I’m enjoyin’ myself plenty!" Grimlock offered him that grin again—the one that washed through him like sunshine. "This is already the first date I’ve ever been on."

"Oh?" Fixit hesitated. "I’ve never been on a date before now."

Grimlock squared his jaw. “Then I’ll have to make extra sure it’s perfect.”

A tremor of unease crept through Fixit at that, but then they arrived at the quarry, and there were so many rocks to examine, and of course he kept his word about instructing Grimlock in taking soil samples, and it was rather a lot of fun leading Grimlock around by the pointer finger once he’d convinced him to let him down. The mech made a show of struggling to keep up, as if Fixit was actually a speedster like Sideswipe.

Then Grimlock pulled away, and Fixit panicked. “What’s rum—rung—wrong?”

"I think I see somethin’." Grimlock squinted at something on the far side of the quarry, then took off at a run that bounced Fixit’s wheel’s clear off the ground with each step. Then he dug his hands into the rock, knocking aside rubble with a determined expression on his face. "Whoa!" He hauled something big—something bigger than Fixit—right out of the ground. "Looks just like me, dunnit?"

Fixit frowned, rolling closer to get a better idea of what Grimlock was holding. “Primus! Is that a skull?”

"Looks kinda like my alt-head." Grimlock turned the skull so that they were nose-to-nose and bared his teeth at it. "Grrr. I’m pretty scary-lookin’, aren’t I?"

Fixit used a remote uplink to access the humans’ internet, searching for similar images. “That’s a Tyrannosaurus Rex skull,” he said. “That’s extraordinary, Grim-Grim-Grim-Grimlock!”

Grimlock turned to grin down at the minicon, carefully settling the skull beside him. When his optics flickered between Fixit and the fossil, though, the smile faded to something like awe. “Whoa.” He nudged the skul so it sat right beside Fixit. “You could fit in my mouth.”

"I would rather not, thank you."

Grimlock laughed uproariously. “Okay. Hey, do you have more of those labels? I wanna practice.”

Fixit pulled them out of subspace and watched as Grimlock delicately accepted them and began to key something in.

A few breems later, he presented his handiwork with a crooked grin—a detailed and perfect example of the labeling technique Fixit had taught him earlier that day. He practically glowed with pride.

"This is wobbly—wolverine—wonderful!" He’d _listened_. Really listened! “Great work!”

Grimlock was so thrilled by the praise that he scooped Fixit up and started dancing.


	5. Smooches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What? It's not like it was a secret, right?

"Yo, Motormouth, what’s—" Sideswipe’s engine stalled out as he gawked. The little chatterbot was cupped in Grimlock’s hands—not so strange on its own, but Grimlock  had him raised to his mouth. His processor finally kicked back into gear. “Holy scrap, you can’t eat the little dude, Grimmy! What the Pit are you doing?”

He darted forward to snatch the minicon out from between the jaws of death, but Grimlock was faster and taller; he held Fixit out of reach. “I am kissing my Fixit.” The indignation in his voice knocked Sideswipe back a step. “If you want to kiss Fixit, you have to ask first!”

"Grimlock—"

"No, you have to ask him!” Grimlock rolled his optics. “Sheesh!”

"Fixit," Sideswipe said, searching for some sort of reason. "Is Grimlock trying to eat you?"

"Uh, no?" Grimlock obligingly lowered his hands so Fixit was at eye level with Sideswipe. "We were enjoying a protect—primate—private moment." He crossed his arms. "If you please.”


End file.
